Snapshots
by MidnightShadow101
Summary: A short series of Author x AnyNarutoCharacter oneshots. I'm taking requests, so if you want me to write one with a certain characters, please PM me or leave your request in a review.


**A/N: Okay, so this was originally put down as an interactive Fic, but apparently that's not allowed, so I just changed the "you" to "I". Same story, though. **

**Anyway, I also decided to make this the first in a bunch of oneshots for different AuthorxNaruto character stories. I am currently taking requests, so tell me what you want! :)**

**(y/n)= Your name.**

It was that damned notebook.

I hated it, that navy blue, leather-bound thing, with its differently grained papers. Oh, and the charcoal pencil was just as annoying.

But the thing I despised the most was the owner of these two loathsome objects. Sasuke Uchia. Supposedly, "the most handsome and talented boy in Konoha". Stalked by almost every single freaking female in the village-hidden-in-the-tree-leaves, in his age group or not.

It made me want to throw up.

He doesn't even like them! I think angrily one day in class, chin resting on my interlocked hands. He thinks he's so cool, so smart, so cute... ugh! It ticks me off! What an idiot!

So what does a notebook have to do with all this?

I would often look up- in class or outside training- and find his onyx eyes trained on me, although he was well-acquainted with the fact that you hated him. I would send him my most ferocious glare, but he wouldn't cringe or flinch and look away like I thought he would. He just stared steadily back, expression impassive, eyes flicking from my face to my shoes and everything in between. It was like he was constantly analyzing me, trying to memorize my face and movement patterns. Then he would smirk and tap that charcoal pencil on his chin and add a couple of strokes or scribbles to his notebook- that damned notebook!

Yes, His face seemed to say. I'm watching you. What are you going to do about it?

And the most infuriating thing was that I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't talk to my friends- they would roll their eyes and tell me to stop over-reacting over nothing. Not the teachers or instructors- they would ask what the big deal was and smack me. Not the Sasuke groupies- they would either tell me to be flattered or kill me to "eliminate the competition."

And I couldn't just beat the duck-butt up either. Then everyone would think that I liked him.

Anyway, the first actual interaction I had with the self-centered idiot was during one of my free-training periods.

It was in training arena seven, and I thought no one was there to distract me from my fighting. I did better without anyone watching you anyway. It made me relaxed and sure- confident.

I carefully adjusted your headband so that it wouldn't get in the way while I practiced, took a deep breath, then launched into my routine.

Hand over hand, into the air, bending my knees, landing perfectly, pulling the shuriken from my pocket and throwing them into one of the training dummies at the far end of the arena. I barely paused to examine where they landed.

Triple headshot.

Dashing to the left side, rolling on my shoulder, springing up with three kunai in my hand. Launching myself into the air again and throwing them in midair.

Head, heart, stomach.

I landed, pleased, smiling, before I heard the applause. Then, clenching my fists and gritting my teeth, I slowly turned around, expression murderous.

There was mister heartthrob himself, sitting in the stands and clapping, with the notebook open in his lap.

"Not bad."

"What. The hell. Are. You doing here?" I snarled vehemently.

He had the audacity to pretend to look surprised. "What do you mean? I'm just watching the show." He said innocently.

"And I'm selling cookies." I replied sarcastically. "Now GTFO before I beat you up."

"This is a public arena, for your information."

I screamed through your teeth. "You're... infuriating!"

"But in an endearing way."

"More like annoying."

"No one likes a smart-ass, (y/n)."

"A smart-ass is better than a dumb-ass." I countered swiftly. For some reason unknown to me, the way he said my name sent a tingle racing down my spine.

He grinned, revealing very white, very even teeth. "True." Then he laughed. "It's nice to know that there are some females out there with some sagacity."

"If you're looking for them among your fangirls, I'm not surprised you didn't find one."

"I don't know what I was thinking, then." He joked.

I opened my mouth to make some sarcastic remark, then scowled, annoyed that he had managed to engage me in some semi-civil conversation for more than a few seconds. "Anyway, I'm leaving. I'm not going to train with you here. Stay as long as you want, duck-butt."

"I will, thanks." He picked up his pencil and straightened his notebook.

I were curious despite myself. "What is that, anyway?" I craned my neck to get a better look, but he moved it in such a way that I couldn't see.

"None of your business. But maybe you'll find out soon."

In the evening, I trudged to the ninja-in-training sleeping compound, worn out from the truckload of homework piled up by all my teachers. I was ready for a good night's sleep.

I didn't even bother to switch on the light or change my clothes. I just dumped my bookbag by the door and collapsed onto the bed.

I did not expect to feel the sharp edge of (oh, joy) another book digging into my back. Growling in annoyance, I peeled myself from the covers and groped for the thing in the dark. My hand brushed leather.

Suddenly I bolted upright, completely awake. I knew this book! But what was it doing on my bed...?

I quickly snapped on the light, then, for a while, just stared at the thing.

It was Sasuke's notebook alright. I would know that cover anywhere.

Then, hands shaking with anticipation, I flipped it open...

...and found my own face staring back at me.

Pictures. Dozens of beautifully drawn sketches of me, smiling, laughing, frowning, thinking. Training, doing aerobatics, throwing knives, flipping and carwheeling. All pictures of me, me, me.

I stopped at one that depicted me sitting in the grass with my friends, laughing over some now long-forgotten joke, but the only one that was drawn in great detail was me. The others were all smudged out, with an arrow pointing towards them. Text stood next to it, saying in a slanting scrawl, These don't matter.

His drawings made me beautiful.

I stood up so fast that the book fell off my lap. Not even bothering ot pick it up, I dashed to the door, jerked it open, and ran into the night, heart beating fast.

**A/N: Give me your requests for any Naruto character!**


End file.
